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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"A Damsel in Distress"


"Well?" she said dryly. "Shoot."
"You gathered, no doubt, from Mr. Bevan's conversation, that my
secretary has left me and run away and got married? Would you like
to take her place?"
It was not easy to disconcert Billie Dore, but she was taken aback.
She had been expecting something different.
"You're a shriek, dadda!"
"I'm perfectly serious."
"Can you see me at a castle?"
"I can see you perfectly." Lord Marshmoreton's rather formal manner
left him. "Do please accept, my dear child. I've got to finish this
damned family history some time or other. The family expect me to.
Only yesterday my sister Caroline got me in a corner and bored me
for half an hour about it. I simply can't face the prospect of
getting another Alice Faraday from an agency. Charming girl,
charming girl, of course, but . . . but . . . well, I'll be damned
if I do it, and that's the long and short of it!"
Billie bubbled over with laughter.
"Of all the impulsive kids!" she gurgled. "I never met anyone like
you, dadda! You don't even know that I can use a typewriter."
"I do. Mr. Bevan told me you were an excellent stenographer.


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